Chapter 133: Chapter 43 Battle 208?
Chapter 133: Chapter 43 Battle 208?
Editor: Noodletown Translations â`
As the fighting platform began to continuously showcase breathtaking contestants, Wang Nuonuo, in the semicircular suite mid-air, was nearly unable to maintain her ladylike demeanor.
âWhatâs so interesting about a bunch of men brawling and killing each other!
Honestly, mecha battles are far more exciting, but unfortunately, there arenât any.â
Itâs a pity that Miss Wang never considers her own misdeeds on the PO Battle Net.
Her notorious title is so well-known one could swagger across the forums with it.
Now, Wang Nuonuo had earned herself a new nickname.
...
âThe Magnificent Muscle Maiden!â This top-tier title was crowned upon her after a certain battle video went viral!
Alas, Wang Nuonuo hadnât visited the forum recently and was unaware of her illustrious fame.
Currently, she was idly toying with her playful hair tips, winding them around her fair fingers.
Boring, boring, boringâŠ
âNuonuo, Yuan Ren is about to take the stage, donât you want to take a look?â Suddenly, Wang Nuonuo heard her grandfather calling, and she looked up.
Zhang Zongyao and Old Mr.
Wangji were standing together, chatting and laughing, both smiling at her now.
Was that detestable Zhang Yuanren going to perform?
I have no interest in watching.
Here, one must commend Miss Wangâs acting skills.
âOh really?
Then I must watch Brother Yuan Renâs heroic demeanor,â she exclaimed with a surprised yet slightly joyous expression.
Wang Nuonuo stood up gracefully, stepping over with her long, beautiful legs beside Wang Ji, and looked down.
âŠ
âIs it finally my turn?â Zhang Yuanren clenched and unclenched his fingers.
Initially, seeing Mu Fan in the spotlight made him unhappy, and after that, several outstanding contestants emerged, causing a stir in the fighting arena.
This wasnât the outcome he wanted.
Wasnât it lacking a sensational scene now?
Then let it start with himself.
Looking up at the mid-air, he believed there must be a considerable number of people watching him now.
His lips curled slightly as Zhang Yuanren walked towards Platform No.
1, aiming to overturn everyoneâs impression of him.
His confidence didnât lie in his no longer impressive level-18 physique.
Instead, it was his long-hidden peak level-19 strength and three never-before-seen above B+ level fighting skills!
Standing firmly, Zhang Yuanren raised his head slightly, gazing at the opponent in front of him, whose wrists were wrapped with special fighting cloth bands.
This seemed to be a unique fighting skill from a remote small planet.
Particularly known for close-range grappling, but their real killing move was in the legs.
The unpredictable footwork trick, at times, was the genuine underhanded trick.
Observing the expectant look in his opponentâs eyes, Zhang Yuanren flashed a mocking smile.
âIâll give you one hand,â he lightly threw out the words, really placing his left hand behind his back.
The dark-skinned young manâs face changed, eyes flaring with anger as a violent punch flew directly at him.
âWhy is Yuan Ren holding one hand behind his back?â Wang Ji asked.
âMaybe heâs confident in himself.
I also have confidence in my son.
Letâs continue watching,â Zhang Zongyao said with a chuckle, hearing which Wang Nuonuo secretly pursed her lips.
Zhang Yuanren was intent on establishing his prestige this time, his eyes grew cold, revealing a violent gaze.
His right palm fingers suddenly clumped together, fingertips inward.
Then, as the dark-skinned youthâs fierce punch approached, he turned into a phantom.
The opponentâs heavy punches landed entirely in vain.
However, the young manâs capabilities were not limited to this.
The wrist fighting cloth suddenly stirred up a peculiar whirlwind, and the speed of the punches soared again.
Here it came, humph.
Zhang Yuanrenâs eyes focused on the opponentâs legs, suddenly his eyes widened!
His right elbow swayed, then his hand blade split into four phantom strikes: a knock, a slash, a blunt hit, and a grind!
Then, the opponentâs flying figure thudded kneeling onto the ground.
The bones in both legs surprisingly snapped apart.
The dark-skinned youthâs face was full of agony, unable to comprehend what happened in that split second, now with sharp pains in his legs making him unable to move at all.
Humph, Eight-step Inch Strike!
Unleashing half of an A-level fighting skill on you is a cheap move indeed.
Zhang Yuanren watched the person with a cruel expression, suddenly reaching out.
âWhatâs he going to do?â someone gasped, seeing Zhang Yuanrenâs movement.
Grasping the opponentâs neck, Zhang Yuanren watched as the dark-skinned face before him grew red with struggle, opening his mouth softly, âBeg for mercy, and Iâll spare your life.â
The dark-skinned young man suddenly stopped moving, staring at Zhang Yuanren.
Spit!
A mouthful of blood-spattered spit was flung onto Zhang Yuanrenâs face, the dark-skinned youth laughed heartily, only that with his throat choked, only a hoarse sound came out.
Zhang Yuanrenâs expression turned cold, looking as if at a dead man, clenching the neck suddenly, he tossed it upwards and then turned in mid-air with a powerful kick.
The dark-skinned young manâs backward-flying body left a trail of blood as it crashed heavily below the platform, life and death unknown.
âWaste.â Zhang Yuanren flicked his right hand and then left the platform with his hands behind his back.
For a moment, people nearby avoided looking at him, this person was simply too ruthless.
Mid-air, Wang Nuonuo did not want to watch anymore, using the excuse of feeling unwell to sit back down.
Zhang Zongyao, however, happily chatted with the unperturbed Wang Ji, their minds truly unknown to each other now.
Over there, Mu Fan hadnât noticed what was happening, watching Eli achieve final victory despite sustaining injuries after a scuffle.
Two hours had passed by now.
Finally, with the majorâs announcement.
âThe first round of competition is over, losers please exit.
Remaining contestants will continue to the second round.â
The scene was abuzz, not even a moment of rest?
Yet the military had no intention of explaining.
If you couldnât do it just leave, no one would stop you.
The commotion subsided after a moment.
The major, expressionless, looked at the crowd, stating only: âThe second round begins.â
Then turned and left.
Many peopleâs electronic tokens began to vibrate, yet now none bore the relaxed expression from earlier, replaced by solemnity and concern.
Some hadnât recovered from a gruelling battle; others had just finished their previous battle.
At this moment, none wanted to be the first called, for the later entrants had more rest time, a relative advantage indeed.
If you just finished the first fight and immediately entered the second, that would be the most tragic.
Eli and Paje anxiously awaited notification, but at that moment, Mu Fanâs electronic token suddenly vibrated.
At the same time, the electronic broadcast sounded throughout the arena.
âNumber 208 versus Number 1578, Platform 43.â
Hearing the first number, both Paje and Eli looked up simultaneously, staring intently at Platform 43 within the field.
They hadnât forgotten, Phil was the one beaten beyond recognition, life or death unknown on that platform.
Who was Number 1578?
Suddenly, they saw Mu Fan, who had been quietly seated, stand up and calmly walk toward the field.
How unfortunate, going up in the first round.
No, wait!
Recalling Mu Fanâs number from the last round, the two exchanged glances, eyes wide open together.
Mu Fan, Number 1578.
*************
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Haha)
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